Kindness in the Cold
by Tadpole24
Summary: He had remained solid beside her, stroking her back as she fell apart in his arms, as she allowed herself to succumb to every bad thought she had had while in Neverland. Captain Swan fic for a prompt from Tumblr :)


_Ahoy shipmates, _

_So this fic was written as a bit of a celebration for 10,000 posts on Tumblr (because I feel like I'm one of the big kids now). I asked for a prompt and received three, so this is the first and will be my actual 10,000__th__ post! The others will come soon after so keep an eye out :)_

_Thanks to __**krizpossible**__ for this prompt. I took some creative liberties with it, but hope you still like it!_

_**Prompt: Hook is in need of modern clothes after getting back to Storybrooke and Emma decides to lend him Graham's jacket.**_

..:::..

Kindness in the Cold

..:::..

Hook's groan of frustration pulls her from concentrating on her reports but she refuses to look up or over towards the pirate sitting in the holding cell not 20 feet from her. "Swan," he calls, his voice loud and jarring against the quiet of the sheriff's station at 2am.

It's not her ideal way to spend a Saturday night, but with the snow coming down in sheets outside and no practical way for her to get home, she had figured that pulling an all-nighter might actually be her safest option. She had called home just before the power had gone out and told her parents that they might need to watch Henry for her for the night and that she'd make her way home in the morning when they could safely clear a path. It was a fool proof plan that kept everyone safe and dry for the night. But what she hadn't counted on was the annoying whining coming from the pirate she had locked up earlier in the day.

"Swan," he tries again, "It's cold."

She finally turns her attention to him, "Perhaps you should have thought about that before breaking and entering."

He throws his arms in the air, "It was but a small misdemeanour, lass. Hardly punishable by imprisonment."

"You tried to steal royal jewels," she says, getting to her feet, not believing his nerve.

He shrugs, "It was not of your family's fortune, those jewels were from the sea, I pillaged them long before the Crocodile took them from me. What concern is that of yours?"

She circles her desk, coming closer to him and he stands from the small bed in the cell to match her, "It is of my concern when I am the law in this town."

He licks his lips in that sly way he does, coming to rest his arms against the bars of the cell, "Then I am of your concern, aren't I?"

She frowns, trying not to be drawn into his smooth talking ways, "You don't have to be. Just stop breaking the law."

But he shakes his head with a 'tsk', "That's not what I mean, love. I am under your duty of care and you are not caring for me. _That_ is of your concern."

He has been complaining all evening about being cold and she knows very well that's what he's hinting at now, "It's not my fault you were caught without a coat on, there's a blanket on the bed. Use it."

He picks up the flimsy material and holds it in front of him, "I can see you through this and it is dark in here. Moody even."

She rolls her eyes, even when he's complaining he still finds ways to inject a healthy dose of innuendo.

Without a power source she had been forced to set up a few candles around the room, indeed giving it a 'moody' glow. "Well then you'll see me not caring," she says, turning on her heel and taking a step back towards her desk.

"Please Emma," his voice drops, holding a tone of genuine humility, "I haven't been this cold since Neverland."

And she knows what it costs him to say it, because he had never even admitted it out there.

It had been the third week of despair, she and Hook had been separated from everyone else and she was feeling lost and lonely and desperate to find her son. The storm had come upon the island so fast no one could have anticipated it and when it had cleared and they were thoroughly drenched the icy winds had decided to pick up leaving them gasping for a breath that they could never catch.

They had huddled beneath low hanging branches of an ancient willow tree and he had taken off his coat for her to wear as he held her until the morning came. She had been freezing that night, her bones aching and protesting, her skin prickling with a cold like nothing she had ever felt before. And he had remained solid beside her, stroking her back as she fell apart in his arms, as she allowed herself to succumb to every bad thought she had had while in Neverland. _What if they didn't find Henry? What if they were the only ones left alive now? What if they died tonight?_

And he had just held her.

With a sigh her eyes linger on her office, a hat stand up in the corner catching her attention, a jacket upon it making her heart ache with a longing she didn't know was in her.

"Okay," she whispers, more to herself than to Hook.

Her feet carry her towards the office and she hears the pirate sigh behind her, giving up. It hurts her that he thinks she would.

She doesn't know what to expect when her fingertips close around the soft leather. It still feels warm under her touch, like he had just taken it off and was readying himself for the morning shift. She clutches it close to her chest for a moment and swears she can hear the smooth lilt of his accent somewhere in the room, his spirit telling her that it's okay.

It doesn't feel right that Hook be locked away while wearing a jacket which had been on the shoulders of such nobility, so she carefully unlocks the cell door and lets him out into the station with her, as an equal.

"You can have this," she offers, holding the jacket out to him, avoiding his eyes.

The cool touch of his hook on her chin isn't expected, but it is not unwelcome either. He tilts her head up, cupping her jaw, "What's wrong?"

Her eyes swimming with tears, she pushes the jacket towards him again, "Just be kind with it," she says, not really understanding her own words, but knowing he will.

"Aye lass." He takes the jacket in his hand, slinging it over his shoulders, relishing the warmth pouring from it, "Thank you."

And it feels right then, it feels like it's all come full circle because those were the last words uttered to her by the last man to have worn that jacket. It feels something like closure.

It's cold in the sheriff's station that night, but as Hook pulls Emma in to hold her, to protect her, neither one of them can help but think this is the start of something warm and beautiful.

..:::..


End file.
